


(Earth) Birthday Wishes

by SapphicScholar



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cat's pov, Earth Birthday, F/F, Fluff, Slow-ish burn, flirting with food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-23 13:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: It had all started with the cupcakes. No, no, that was a lie. It started with the M&Ms. It worsened with the cupcakes. And her fate was damn well sealed by the time they’d made it to birthday cake. Because by then…well, by then Cat couldn’t excuse it as anything but outright flirting. But that’s getting ahead of things…Supercat slow-ish burn because the best way to Kara Danvers' heart is through her stomach





	(Earth) Birthday Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoLo_Renegade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoLo_Renegade/gifts).



> For RoLo_Renegade, I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!!  
> And thanks to the organizers of this year's secret santa femslash exchange!!

It had all started with the cupcakes. No, no, that was a lie. It started with the M&Ms. It worsened with the cupcakes. And her fate was damn well sealed by the time they’d made it to birthday cake. Because by then…well, by then Cat couldn’t excuse it as anything but outright flirting. But that’s getting ahead of things…

“Kiera!” Cat bellowed, taking half a second to smile to herself at the sound of her latest assistants’ clunky shoes hastening towards Cat’s office.

“Yes, Ms. Grant?”

“Why is there”—Cat pursed her lips, her eyes flicking over to her assistant, whose lower lip was pulled between her teeth, her eyes wide—“a bowl of candy on the bar?”

“Oh!” Kara beamed at Cat—something that continued to surprise the woman whose past assistants had barely been able to hold eye contact, let alone do something so brazen as look right at her and smile. “Well, during the last deadline, you asked for M&Ms when you thought fashion hadn’t turned in a single usable sentence.”

“And?”

“Well…I figure you have a stressful job, Ms. Grant. They seemed to help then, so maybe it would be good for you to have them on hand.”

“And they’re in the ice bucket because…?”

Kara ducked her head down slightly, one hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck. “You don’t really seem like a candy-bowl-on-the-desk kind of person, and, you know, now no one else can see them. But they’re there. Because, well, you should have the things that make you happy near you.”

“And that’s why you have an equally hideous backup cardigan in that desk of yours?” Kara shook her head slightly, though Cat swore she saw her biting back a smile. Before they could well and truly risk entering into the territory of personal conversation, Cat let out a noncommittal little huff, hiding her amazement at how well the girl had anticipated each of her concerns and needs over the past few weeks. “That will do, Kiera.”

\---

Once Cat learned to stop being surprised at all the ways Kara surpassed her former assistants—and husbands and partners, if she were being honest—not only in managing her workload but in anticipating Cat’s (and Carter’s) wants and needs, things settled down. She got over the juvenile flutter of excitement at finding someone who could nearly match her because somehow, no matter how much higher she kept raising the bar, Kara simply kept soaring over it. Not that Cat would admit it. Better to prepare herself for the inevitable disappointment when she stumbled.

But then, in a whirlwind of red and blue, Supergirl crashed onto the front page of _The Tribune_ and made headlines in just about every major newspaper in the country. She snatched falling airplanes from the sky and hoisted Cat’s car up a cliff. She stopped muggings and saved puppies and kittens and an odd snake or two. She stopped foes even Superman couldn’t and did it all without letting people like Max Lord crush that spirit of hope that seemed to infuse everything she did.

It took Cat longer than she would care to admit to realize that her assistant was the one donning the cape and flinging herself into the line of fire every day. And it wasn’t because the disguise was so well-crafted. Hell, it wasn’t even because, as everyone else seemed to think, Kara Danvers faded into the background as utterly unremarkable while Supergirl stole headlines and hearts day in and day out. The very last word Cat would use to describe her assistant was unremarkable. No, the girl was extraordinary in her own way—in a way that seemed so personal, so grounded in being able to read people and connect with them on a deep level, that it couldn’t possibly be the same kind of extraordinariness embodied by Supergirl, who saved the whole city, sweeping in with powers nearly beyond comprehension and an anonymous name bestowed upon her, rarely lingering in the city after making sure people were okay.

But then stories started to trickle in. The ones that didn’t make headlines. The ones about Supergirl fluttering down from the skies to help a bullied child. The ones about Supergirl quietly stepping in behind the scenes to volunteer at hospitals and food banks and shelters. The ones about Supergirl sitting for _hours_ with a young girl whose parents had been whisked away after a bad accident. And that—well, that sounded like the Kara who remembered Carter’s favorite snacks and knew to give him space and took time to draw in silence with him when he’d had a bad day at school but Cat was stuck in meetings with investors.

And from there, everything else fell into place. The string of disappearances by Kara whenever Supergirl was needed. The strikingly similar appearance that no amount of changes to posture, wardrobe, and hair could disguise. The way both of them treated Cat like she mattered as more the Queen of All Media. The way they both made her heart beat a little too fast for her to ignore.

Of course, things hadn’t gone smoothly when Cat made it clear to Kara that she knew. There had been denials on Kara’s part and anger on hers, all culminating in some silly stunt that, she was woman enough to admit, threw her for a little while. But once they saved the world together, side-by-side, and Supergirl was hugging Kara Danvers’ foster mother and sister in front of her, the attempts at holding fast to the façade began slipping away. Sure, they still went by different names and pretended like Kara and Supergirl were two different people. Cat didn’t point out that Kara’s post-promotion office would allow her to be gone from the building for Supergirl heroics without anyone realizing it, and Kara never attempted to claim quite the same level of closeness with Cat in the office as she had with her as Supergirl out on the balcony. But little things started to slip through the cracks. Kara didn’t make up elaborate, contrived excuses for her absences, and after any fights that seemed to leave Supergirl particularly worn down, Cat would shoo Kara home with the excuse that she didn’t look well and they couldn’t afford having her germs infesting the office.

It wasn’t an explicit confession, but it was far from the scoffing denials of before. It felt like a truce. Things were going smoothly. The tense antagonism that had bubbled after the denial and after Adam faded, giving way to a new sense of intimacy—one that allowed Cat to smile at Kara and even compliment her work every now and then during the day and to laugh and stand side-by-side, arms and hands grazing, with Supergirl at night as she lingered on Cat’s balcony, listening to the sounds of a city that might need her at any moment.

So it felt only natural to plan a small—really very small, two-person, even—celebration of Kara’s one-year anniversary of coming out as Supergirl. Cat had ordered cupcakes from her favorite bakery—precisely the cupcakes she’d used to teach Kara a lesson about how quickly the most exquisite things in life would disappear if she didn’t act decisively—and had gotten the bakery to relax their “absolutely no customization” rule to dye the vanilla buttercream icing Supergirl red and blue and to decorate each of them with a fondant version of the House of El crest.

During the workday, Cat had given no indication that she knew the significance of the date, other than to ask Kara to inform Supergirl that she would like to see her on the balcony at 8 that evening.

But after Kara left, presumably to deal with some alien threat or a crumbling bridge, it struck Cat: she’d asked Supergirl to come by her balcony at a specific time for a specific occasion to reward her with those very cupcakes she’d once yanked away after comparing them to James Olsen under the assumption that he was the thing Kara wanted most. And sure, the analogy wasn’t perfect—a level of imprecision that she’d have sent back to any of her reporters with a big red X through it—but she couldn’t help but wonder if Kara might read it as some kind of romantic overture. And knowing that Kara could hear the way Cat’s heart sped up when their hands touched out on the balcony, could hear the way her breath hitched when Kara managed to exceed her expectations yet again, might even have heard some of the things she said in those moments she believed herself alone…well, none of that made Cat less concerned.

And suddenly Cat’s plan seemed rash, like a looming threat to this fragile relationship they had been building together.

In general, Cat didn’t second-guess her decisions. She made them, acted on them, and then dealt with the consequences, good or bad. Sure, there were a few exceptions—Adam foremost among them—but she couldn’t get by as a woman in this kind of industry by showing weakness. At the moment, though, Cat felt her sense of certainty slipping away. Because it was one thing to lust after Supergirl and harbor some damnably clichéd feelings for her former assistant and try to pretend like those feelings and those identities could be separated out and more easily managed. But to act on them? Well that just seemed foolish.

As the hours ticked by and Kara failed to rematerialize in Cat’s office—not that she had any obligation to let Cat know she’d returned from Supergirl duties, but it had become a kind of unofficial ritual that soothed Cat’s worries without making her walk all the way down to Kara’s office to check several times in a day—Cat felt her anxiety spike. Perhaps Kara had taken her offer as an invitation to a date. Perhaps she was off wondering how best to turn her down without risking her job or Cat’s feelings—not that Cat would ever have threatened Kara’s job (and had, in fact, already worked to ensure that certain staffing decisions needed to go through HR). But Kara might not know that.

At 7:30, when most of her staff had left and CatCo was reporting that the latest threat to National City had been handily dealt with by Supergirl, Cat debated calling Kara to let her know—or rather, to let her know to “let Supergirl know”—that something had come up, and she needed to cancel. But that felt rude, and Kara was one of the few people for whom Cat would willingly choose the option that made her uncomfortable but was technically “nicer.”

At 7:55, Cat ambled out onto the balcony, leaning one hip against the railing and looking out across the city—her city, Supergirl’s city.

At 8:02, Cat stalked back inside, shoving the absurdly bright pink cupcake box back into the fridge and settling in at her desk. If Supergirl did decide to arrive, there was no reason for her to think the meeting had meant anything to Cat.

At 8:15, a soft knock sounded on the glass of the balcony door. Cat let out a huff, pulling off her glasses as if she had been in the midst of writing something incredibly important and not compiling a grocery list.

“Come in,” Cat called out, still not deigning to look up.

“Cat?” Kara sounded nervous, her voice softer than it usually was, especially in her Supergirl persona. “I’m sorry I’m late. The, uh, alien I was fighting led me down into the sewers, and I thought it’d be best to shower and change before coming here.”

“Well that’s for the—” Cat’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up and found Kara standing in the doorway in black workout leggings and a tight black zip-up top that accentuated every curve, every line of toned muscle. “I, uh, you’re…” Cat cleared her throat, shaking her head to try to drive away all the inappropriate thoughts clouding it. “That’s not your usual outfit.”

Kara glanced down. “Oh, yeah, um, I borrowed some clothes. Figured it would be better to get over here faster.”

“Right.”

“So, um, you wanted to see me?”

“Oh, well, it’s nothing that important. No need to be dramatic about it.”

“Oh-kayy.”

“I thought you might, well, I know you don’t drink”—Cat bit back a smile at the memory of Supergirl attempting to swallow gin without cringing—“but perhaps you would join me in a celebratory dessert.”

“What are we celebrating? Were you nominated for another award?”

Cat swore she felt her heart swell at the sight of how damn excited Kara looked on her behalf. “I believe tonight might be better spent celebrating you.”

Kara cocked her head to the side. “What? I mean, it was a hard fight, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Cat sighed as she shook her head. “Not that. I thought we could toast a full year of you, Supergirl. A year of you putting yourself on the line and saving your city—hell, the whole world with Myriad.”

“Cat.” Kara’s voice was choked with emotion, and she let out a trembling exhale before smiling up at her. “You remembered?”

Cat bit back all the flippant comments on the tip of her tongue about remembering the story that saved _The Tribune_. “How could I forget?” In turning to get the cupcakes from the fridge, she missed the pink blush that spread across Kara’s cheeks and the way she hastily rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

“I figure an occasion as special as this one deserves cupcakes as exquisite as these.”

Kara’s mouth watered at the sweet aroma wafting out of the box and the memory of how close she’d come to getting to try one the last time Cat had them delivered.

Cat led Kara out onto the balcony, placing the pink box down on the table. Before she could turn back for plates, the air around her fluttered, and Kara was standing next to her once more, two glasses—one scotch, one seltzer water—set on the table beside two plates and a small stack of napkins.

“Isn’t that handy,” Cat muttered, lowering herself down to one of the chairs and motioning for Supergirl to join her.

“And you haven’t even seen what I can do with a champagne bottle yet.”

“Perhaps one day…” And Cat knew her tone and her words were bordering on, maybe crossing over into, flirtatious, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when Kara was sitting next to her looking like that, looking at her like that. Not when it felt so damn right to be there together, to be speaking of future plans together.

After Cat caught Kara eyeing the box a few more times, she arched one eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to open your present?”

With all the permission she needed, Kara lifted the lid, grinning at the sight of the Supergirl cupcakes she knew for a fact were not on the menu.

“Alright, Cat, Supergirl red or blue first?”

“Hmm?”

“Which one do you want to eat first?”

Cat coughed, sending a bit of scotch up to burn the back of her throat. How that girl survived out in the real world with the amount of inadvertent innuendo that came out of her mouth, Cat would never know. Though when she looked up, she swore she spotted a small smile tugging up the corners of Kara’s mouth, but it was gone before she could check. Probably a trick of the light. Or wishful thinking. “I suppose I’ll take a blue one.”

“Blue does suit you.”

Kara’s gaze was trained firmly on the cupcakes when Cat’s eyes flicked up to try to read the meaning behind her words.

“Blue for you, and I’ll take red for balance.”

“A toast.” Cat raised her glass. “I suppose you can’t be persuaded to enjoy a single glass from a very fine bottle of scotch?”

Kara scrunched up her nose. “It tastes like it hates you!”

Biting back a laugh, Cat simply lifted her glass higher. “To you, Supergirl. To saving the people of National City more times and in more ways than CatCo’s headlines could ever count. To giving us hope. To giving _me_ hope.”

As Cat clinked her glass against Kara’s, she found those blue eyes looking right at her, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the slight breeze in the air.

“I had the best mentor every step of the way.”

“I think my employees might disagree, but thank you.”

“I think you’re underselling yourself.”

“Oh really? Would you care to ask Siobhan and Leslie?”

“Let’s just say I have it on pretty good authority.”

The unspoken truth hung in the air between them, making it crackle with something far headier than electricity.

The spell was finally broken when a breeze wafted the smell of vanilla buttercream icing in Kara’s direction.

“Go on, I won’t snatch it back from you.” Cat just barely bit back the “this time.”

With that, Kara took a large bite, letting out a muffled groan of enjoyment as her eyes fluttered shut. “Rao, this is _so_ good.”

“Didn’t I tell you they were the best?”

“Are you gonna—can I have another if I finish this one?”

“The other 11 are all yours, Supergirl.”

“Really?”

“The look in your eyes,” Cat laughed. “I swear, it’s like Christmas came early.”

“Ugh, I’m always so hungry after a big fight. This is perfect!”

“Is that so?”

Kara nodded as she busied herself with picking out a second cupcake, opting for one with chocolate cake that time.

That was all it took for Cat to add another item to her end-of-day to-do list: put food out on balcony.

They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about some of Supergirl’s most notable moments from the past year, and Cat relished in the opportunity to hear the parts of the story that normally went untold, to listen to Kara reflect on what she had found most rewarding and challenging in her new role.

It wasn’t until Supergirl was polishing off the tenth of her 11 cupcakes that she noticed Cat’s slow pace, breaking off neat bites and carefully popping them into her mouth. “C’mon, Cat. That’s no way to eat a cupcake.”

“No, you’re right. Normally I’d use a fork to keep the proper icing to cake ratio, but it felt rude to interrupt the conversation to go get one.”

“A fork?” Kara placed a hand over her chest, feigning a look of mortal anguish. “Half the fun of a cupcake is knowing it’s cake that you’re allowed to eat with your hands! You get to bite down through the sugary icing and into the fluffy cake, and no one can tell you: that’s not how you eat cake on Earth, K—kiddo.”

Cat arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Hear that often, did you?”

Kara shrugged her shoulders. “I plead the fifth.”

“It makes a mess to eat cupcakes like that.”

“No one’s looking.”

“Except National City’s resident hero.”

“At the same time then, count of three.”

“This is childish.”

“We’re celebrating.”

Cat rolled her eyes, but she still brought her cupcake up to her mouth when Kara did, mimicking her motions as she counted down, “Three. Two. One.”

Cat felt utterly ridiculous, and she could feel crumbs and icing clinging to her lips, maybe even her nose, but Kara was shooting her the world’s biggest smile from behind her cupcake, so Cat couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You, uh, you’ve got a little frosting,” Kara giggled.

“This is precisely why I don’t eat cupcakes that way,” Cat huffed, swiping at her lip and leaving half of the frosting behind.

“At least you look good in blue.” A teasing glint shimmered in Kara’s eyes. Before Cat could spit back some sarcastic remark, Kara leaned over, adding a bit of red icing to complement the blue already on Cat’s lips.

Cat let out a huff of faux annoyance as she reached for a napkin.

“You can’t waste icing like that!” Kara cried out, looking half ready to incinerate the napkin if it came any closer.

“Well I don’t exactly have a mirror.”

“Here.” Cat’s breath caught in her throat as Supergirl reached forward, swiping the frosting off Cat’s mouth with her thumb—and not some hurried motion, but slowly. Deliberately. Like a caress. Cat could barely even register Kara’s offering it to her, too distracted by the way her heart was threatening to pound right out of her chest to notice trivial things like the world around her. She did manage to tune back in long enough to see Kara stick her finger into her own mouth with a shrug. “No reason to waste perfectly good frosting!”

Cat was almost glad when the sound of sirens met them minutes later. “Well, up, up, and away, right, Supergirl?” Her voice was far breathier than she had hoped it would be.

“Thank you, Cat. The cupcakes were so thoughtful. And getting to enjoy them with you…it made everything even better.”

Cat swallowed heavily as she was swept up into a tight hug. “Of course.”

As Kara hovered in the air above her balcony, poised to take off, Cat cleared her throat. “Supergirl?”

“Yeah?”

“You might want to get your suit back on.”

Kara let out a yelp. “Oh shoot! Gotta go, bye!”

\---

Three nights later, Cat found a very confused looking Supergirl knocking on her balcony door.

“Supergirl, to what do I owe the honor?”

“There’s a whole pizza on your balcony.”

Cat didn’t quite hear a question in it, but she nodded anyway. “There is.”

“With a big note taped to it that says, ‘For Supergirl.’”

“Well I wouldn’t want any visiting caped crusaders to think they could help themselves without asking you first.”

“Did we have dinner plans?”

“No.” Cat waved a hand in the air, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The other day you mentioned you get hungry saving the city. I figured the least I could do was help feed you.”

“How did you know…? Wait. Have you been doing this every night?”

“I have.”

“Cat.” Supergirl rubbed at the back of her neck, though Cat noted the way her gaze kept darting back to the pizza box. “You really don’t have to. Plus, I doubt you ate the past two nights’ pizzas yourself.”

“No, but the night security and maintenance teams loved them.”

“But really, you don’t have to.”

“You’ve done more than this city will ever know. Letting me treat you to a few pizzas or a bag of potstickers or those Chipotle burrito monstrosities you manage to consume is barely anything.” Neither of them acknowledged the fact that Cat knew how much Kara liked the latter two from work, not Supergirl duties.

“Thank you. Do you, uh, would you mind if I had a slice?”

“Have as much as you want. That’s what it’s here for.”

“Do you want one?” Kara held up a slice of greasy pizza.

“No thank you.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ll get to it.”

And Kara knew a Cat Grant-patented deferral, a putting herself second to work that the world rarely saw, which is how half an hour later, Cat felt a whoosh of air and found in front of her a bento box from the newest Japanese restaurant that had opened in downtown National City to rave reviews a week earlier. Supergirl was gone before she could ask, but a small note left on top of it read: “Don’t worry about the cost. I helped assemble some furniture that had been delayed the night before opening.” It was signed with a bubbly S and a heart that Cat tried not to read too much into.

Over the next few weeks, they settled into a pattern. Cat would leave out food most nights and come back in the morning to thank you notes that were, at turns, sweet (“So needed this today. You’re the best!”), goofy (“This might sound cheesy, but I think you’re grate!” in response to the macaroni and cheese topped with grated parmesan), and heartfelt (“I wish you were here…it’s been a rough night. Can’t wait for our next balcony chat.”). On days when Cat lingered well into the evening, Kara would show up to join her for dinner with significantly healthier options, a shrug of her shoulders, and a ready excuse about it not having cost her anything.

About a month into their new routine, when Kara returned to work looking exhausted after a morning fight, Cat found herself making a few calls, then clicking to open the new internal CatCo direct message system that was said to be much safer in the age of too many hacks on supposedly secure systems.

“Kara,” Cat hit enter, furrowing her brow as the clearly unfinished message sent.

 **Cat Grant (11:48am):** Kara,

 **Cat Grant (11:48am):** Dammit.

 **Kara Danvers (11:48am):** Hit enter before you were done typing?

 **Cat Grant (11:49am):** It could have been intentional.

 **Kara Danvers (11:49am):** Okay!

 **Cat Grant (11:51am):** As I was saying, there are leftovers from a catered meeting in conference room B. Please take care of cleaning them up. If you don’t have a use for them and no one else does either, be sure to use the composting bins installed in the kitchen.

 **Kara Danvers (11:52am):** On it!

That, too, become something of a habit. And if there were a few more catering orders on days without meetings charged to Cat’s personal credit card, well, there was no harm in keeping her staff—or one particular staffer—at their best. And if Supergirl sometimes thanked Cat for the delicious sandwiches that were most definitely eaten by Kara Danvers, it was just another instance of the increasingly open acknowledgment of the truth between them.

\---

All of those things, though, they could be excused as friendly, as a way keeping Supergirl nourished and thanking her for her service to the city. Sure, maybe eating dinner together several days a week and sitting closer and closer together on the balcony on quiet nights was going above and beyond a mere thank you, but Cat had _always_ gone above and beyond.

The birthday cake and everything that surrounded it, however…that could not.

After two years of working with Kara, Cat knew that there was a day in the middle of January that mattered to her. It wasn’t the fall birthday listed on her resume that the office celebrated with sheet cake and cards from nearly everyone in the building, each of whom had a story to tell about their interactions with Kara. It was after the Christmas celebrations that Kara’s little posse did before some of them left for travel, after the Hanukkah card that arrived from Kara’s foster mother each year, after the silly, glittery New Years trinkets that littered the corners of Kara’s desk for the first few days back in the office, but before Valentine’s Day when far too many men made moon eyes in Kara’s direction for days on end, some of them even venturing forward with candy as a kind of peace offering.

Maybe some would dismiss Cat’s need to know as yet another instance of her taking her role as the Queen of All Media too seriously, but Cat knew better. It wasn’t about the simple joy of _knowing_. It was the fact that the day mattered to Kara. And if it mattered to Kara, it mattered to Cat. But she needed to know when it was and what it was for. Because some days in the lead up to it, she swore Kara looked a little lost, her patented Sunny Danvers smiles tinged with melancholy that was hidden to anyone but those who knew what cracks in the façade looked like. So if celebrating it properly meant ensuring that Kara took the days off to be with family or go pray to one of the gods from her home planet, she could do that. If it meant ignoring it completely, she could do that too. But she’d seen Kara smile, even tear up, at the lone cupcake sitting on her desk—never dropped off by the impersonal hands of a delivery person, but placed in the center of her desk on top of a card while Kara was out in a meeting or on an assignment by a one Alexandra Danvers.

All of which was to say, Cat Grant had more than a death wish when she contacted Kara’s older sister on what was supposed to be a completely private line of an organization that didn’t exist according to any public records and asked if they could chat on a chilly December morning.

Despite arriving five minutes early, Cat was unsurprised to find Alex already waiting for her, seated at a corner table, her gaze constantly roving about the open space of the café.

“Ms. Grant,” Alex greeted.

“Officer Scully,” Cat shot back.

“Why did you contact me?”

“Really? After we worked together last year are we going to pretend like we’re strangers?”

Alex’s grimace softened slightly as her shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. “You’re not supposed to use that number.”

“It was important.”

“Then get my personal number.”

“And how do you propose I go about doing that? It’s not exactly listed in the white pages.”

“I believe you see my little sister on a fairly regular basis.”

There was something in Alex’s voice that gave Cat pause, but after a moment, she pushed past it. “I have a question about Kara, so I couldn’t very well ask her to arrange this meeting for me.”

“Oh?”

Cat swore Alex’s demeanor shifted again, into something slightly more open, slightly more receptive. It was the moment she longed for back when she was still reporting and investigating on a regular basis. The moment in an interview when she knew she was close to getting what she needed. But this time, she had no idea what Alex Danvers was ready to grant her, and that gap in her knowledge, that sense that she was missing something the other woman already knew, frustrated her more than anything. “I…there’s a date coming up.”

A small smirk tugged up one corner of Alex’s mouth. “I figured as much. Go on and ask me what you need.”

“I don’t quite know the significance of it for her.”

“Trust me, Cat, it matters to her. A lot. So you had better not fuck it up.”

“Er, right. I’m hoping not to. That’s why I wanted to ask you what exactly it is Kara celebrates around the second week of January.”

Alex paused, her cup of coffee halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“You bring her a card and a cupcake every year. I know it’s not the birthday listed on her official records, but I think we both know that date means little.” Cat watched as Alex’s grip around her mug tightened. “I haven’t said anything, and I don’t plan on it, but I wanted to know…is this date a birthday I should know about? It seems…well, it seems to matter a great deal, but sometimes it’s not quite the easy happiness one expects with a celebratory affair.”

Cat tried to follow the rapid shifts in Alex’s expression before she took a deep breath in, then slowly let it out. “Tell me why you need to know, and I’ll either explain it to you or tell you to ask Kara.”

“So much of Kara’s life is artificial, imposed on her from outside—from the media, _me_ ,” Cat acknowledged, “from her friends and their expectations, from the little facts she had to take on to become Kara Danvers.” Cat looked up, holding Alex’s gaze. “I want to let her enjoy something authentic, something that matters to her—not just to who she became to survive or to the…person she is for all of us, but the one in the middle, the one that she is when no one’s watching.”

Alex gave Cat a firm nod of her head that made her feel like she’d earned something she didn’t quite know to ask for. “It’s also not really her birthday. Or, not her old birthday. Calendars were different, and in the beginning, we didn’t know how to shift to account for those differences.”

“That makes sense.”

“But we wanted something to celebrate, so the day of her…arrival. Here. With my family.”

“And is it…were I to acknowledge it, would that be a positive thing for her?”

Alex paused, considering her words carefully before she spoke. “It’s a hard day for her. It’s the marker of a new beginning, yes, but it’s also a reminder of just how much she’s lost. She likes celebrating to remember all the good that came from the new start, but she might need some time too.” Cat resisted the urge to pull out her phone to take notes. “But most of all, she likes to spend the day surrounded by the people she loves.”

“Oh.” Cat tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Very well, I can arrange for her to have the day off if you’ll be around, and—”

“No.” Alex shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly. “God, you’re almost as bad as her.”

“What?”

“Do something with her that day, Cat. She’s already got a whole karaoke night planned with me and Winn and James that I don’t really see you joining—at least not this year,” she added with a laugh. “Give her time. I never saw myself square dancing, but somehow when Kara came pleading with those big blue eyes, I managed to fish my best flannel out of the closet.”

Cat swallowed all the jokes she wanted to make, figuring it wasn’t the time. “Thank you, Alex. I appreciate your trust.”

“Like I said, just don’t fuck it up, okay?”

“I’d also prefer to avoid that.”

\---

In the buildup to Kara’s arrival anniversary, as Cat had taken to calling it in her head, she sent Kara a calendar invitation.

Date: January 13

Time: 9am-5pm

Event Description: I will send a car to pick you up at 8:30am sharp and ensure that it has you back at the same time as a normal workday would end or for any emergencies that may suddenly arise throughout the day. Do let me know if the 13th doesn’t work for you.

Within a few minutes of Kara’s arrival at the office Cat received an email telling her that Kara had RSVPed “yes” to her calendar invitation. A few minutes later, the woman herself knocked on her office door.

“Come in.”

“Ms. Grant?”

“Yes, Kara?” Cat slid her glasses down her nose, settling them next to her keyboard.

“I, uh, got your calendar invitation. Is there a staff retreat or something I should know about?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I thought, if it works with your schedule, we might take a day away from the office. Like we did to celebrate your promotion last year,” Cat added, as if they hadn’t also spent several nights together each week for months.

“Oh.” Kara’s face brightened considerably. “That sounds great!”

“Good. So keep your calendar clear.”

“Will do.”

As Kara headed for the door, Cat called out: “Oh, and Kara?”

“Yes?”

“Feel free to dress a bit more casually than you would for work.”

\---

On the morning of January 13th, Cat tried on all three of the outfit options she had put out for herself the night before, deciding each one had some fatal flaw that required it to be discarded as an option immediately.

The sound of Carter’s alarm clock ringing from down the hall was Cat’s signal that she’d most definitely been deliberating for too long, having normally already responded to dozens of emails and gotten a first cup of coffee in her system by that point.

“Mom?” Carter’s sleepy voice sounded from the hallway.

“Yes, Carter?”

“Are you sick?”

Pulling her plush robe tighter around herself, Cat stepped out into the hallway. “No. Why do you ask?”

“All the downstairs lights are still off. The last time that happened, you had the flu.”

“Well let’s not jinx it, but, no, I am not sick. I’m simply choosing an outfit.”

“For your date with Kara?”

“What?”

“Mom,” Carter sighed. “You guys do dinner every night when I’m not around. You talk to her on the phone sometimes and get that little smile that you don’t think I notice. _And_ ”—Carter dragged out the world like a lawyer in a closing statement—“you’ve been texting an Alex Danvers for the past few weeks, like, all the time.”

“First of all, it’s not necessarily a date.”

“You only go through this many outfits for dates that matter. So, like, once before.”

“Carter,” Cat sighed, rubbing one hand over her face. “It’s complicated.”

“Because she’s Supergirl or because she works for you?”

Cat sank down to the bed, massaging her temples to stave off any possible migraines. “You know, sometimes I think it would be easier if you weren’t so astute.”

“Would I even be your kid if I weren’t?” Carter teased, something that had been happening more and more regularly since he’d been spending a few afternoons a week hanging around CatCo and chatting with Kara when she had time.

“You cannot say anything, you know that, right?”

“Of course, Mom. I wouldn’t put her in danger like that.”

“But it could put you in danger too. She—she doesn’t like telling people because it puts them at risk.”

Carter nodded solemnly.

“Do I even want to know how you know?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Carter perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s little things mainly. She seems to get what it’s like to not fit in all the time. When we’re drawing together, sometimes she draws landscapes of places that I don’t think exist on this planet. And when she forgets I’m there, sometimes she speaks in this kind of musical language. And she blushes and gets all happy when I talk about Supergirl. Oh, and then, you know, she looks just like Supergirl if you don’t get stuck on the hair and glasses.”

“Ah yes, such little things,” Cat drawled.

“Plus,” Carter added, peering up at Cat, a small smile on his lips, “you talk about Kara and Supergirl the same way.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You care about them. Or, her, I guess.”

Figuring she didn’t want to break her policy of not lying to Carter, save for those times his father backed out of his commitments to spend time with his son, Cat placed a hand on his shoulder. “I do. But just because I care about her, even like her, doesn’t mean that this is a date or that things have to work out between us.”

“I know.” Carter dragged the last word out into several syllables. “But she clearly likes you back.”

“Pray tell, how are you so certain of that?”

“She talks about you the same way.” Before Cat could interrupt, he continued, “ _And_ her sister is literally giving you her approval.”

Squashing the hope that surged in her chest, Cat said, “We’ll see what happens. Today is an important day for Kara, so what matters today isn’t getting a date; it’s making sure she knows that there are people in her life who care.”

“So you’re gonna try to not to make so many sarcastic comments?” Carter asked, a far too innocent smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“And don’t forget to have fun.”

“I will.” She didn’t add that going anywhere with Kara normally ensured that she did.

“And Mom?” Carter called from the doorway.

“Yes, dear?”

“Wear the black leather jacket. Last time you did she broke off a whole corner of her desk.”

Carter was gone before Cat could even ask, but she did take her jacket out of the closet. No harm in helping her odds at least.

\---

At 8:30 sharp, Cat’s car pulled up in front of Kara’s building, and before she could get out to knock, Kara was already waving at the driver and hopping into the backseat.

“Wow.” Kara’s eyes widened as she took in the tight black jeans and soft white v-neck under the leather jacket she loved so much on Cat. “You look—uh, you look great, Ms. Grant.”

“We’re not in the office, Kara. I think you can call me Cat.”

“Right. Right. Cat.”

“And you look pretty good yourself when you’re not in those hideous cardigans.” Cat bit her tongue, remembering Carter’s words. “Though, if I’m being honest, I suppose you manage to make even polyblend look nice.” The words earned her a broad smile.

“I bet you could too,” Kara added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Mm, I think it might make my skin itch, but thank you.”

They spent the ride chatting easily, though Cat could tell Kara wanted to ask where they were going and what they were doing—all things Cat planned to tell her once they made it to their first destination.

Eventually, they turned off the main road and into a large parking lot.

“The planetarium?” Kara peered out the window.

“Mhmm,” Cat hummed.

“Oh shoot. The signs says it’s closed for renovations today.”

“That would be me.”

Kara tilted her head to the side. “What?”

“I’m the renovations.”

“Did you buy the planetarium?”

“Not really. More like…I called in a favor and rented it for a day.”

Kara looked almost gleeful as Cat guided her out of the car, whispering instructions to the driver before joining Kara once more. As they walked in through the entrance, they were greeted by Karen, the director of the planetarium who brought them down to the night sky projection room. Once she left, Cat motioned to an oversized picnic blanket that had been put out early that morning, joined by a spread of breakfast pastries and (blessedly) two cups of coffee. “I know you’re generally a bit…busy at night, so I thought we might enjoy the next best thing, even if I doubt it compares to what you can see.”

“No, Cat, it’s really, really thoughtful. My, uh, my sister used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was growing up. I didn’t know the stars here”—Kara swallowed, glancing up at Cat to see how she was reacting—“but they made me feel close—or, closer to home. We’d spend nights out on the roof when the weather was nice too. She taught me all the constellations and their names and the stories behind them.”

“I think you’ll be the expert on these one,” Cat whispered, gesturing up at the fake night sky above them.

Kara glanced up, then took a closer look, her brow furrowing as she looked from side to side. “Wait…Cat, that’s not…this isn’t from Earth.”

Cat shook her head. “It’s not. I, uh, had some help. From your sister.”

“Cat.” Kara looked over, tears glistening in her eyes.

“If it’s too much or not something you feel comfortable sharing with me, I can turn it off. You can go home and pretend like this never happened.” Kara opened and closed her mouth once, then twice. “I apologize. Clearly I’ve over—”

Cat found her words cut off by a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her. From the crook of her neck came a watery, “Thank you.”

Blinking back tears that she’d deny later, Cat held Kara closer. “Of course. I know…I know it’s not your first time seeing this view, even here on Earth, but I thought it might be nice to experience it again. With someone new if you’d like.”

Kara nodded, her chin tapping against Cat’s shoulder with each movement of her head. “I could, uh, tell you about the stars if you want?”

“I’d love it.”

And so they spent hours sitting together, inching closer and closer as Kara guided Cat through her solar system, walking her through the planets and the stories of their gods and the myths built up around their histories. She talked about Astra, about the places she had traveled, the worlds she’d experienced, the cities she’d promised a young Kara she would take her to one day. She talked about traveling with her father and learning about the off-world discoveries he and the science guild had made. They took breaks to look up in silence (and, of course, for snacks).

It wasn’t until it was nearly lunch time that Kara turned to her side, propping her head on her hand and looking at Cat. “Why did you do all this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do all of this for me?”

“You matter to me, Kara.”

“Why today?”

Taking a deep breath, Cat pulled herself up to her elbows. “I know what today is.”

“How?”

“Well, I had noticed that there was something important around this day—something that brought your sister into CatCo with a cupcake and card each year.”

“I _knew_ she was sneaking them in!”

“I thought it might be nice for you to have another person to celebrate the day with, but I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate or even something you would want me to know about and celebrate with you, so I called your sister.”

“You called Alex?”

“And we met for coffee.” Cat didn’t mention that she didn’t exactly have enough time to settle in and order a coffee for herself. “I asked her about today, and after convincing her that I wasn’t about to publish a tell-all exposé, she agreed to help me.”

“Wait. Alex…Alex helped _you_?” Kara blinked several times, her eyes wide. “I mean, no offense.”

“None taken.”

“It’s just…she can be a little…nervous about other people knowing.”

“I gathered.”

“And she actually helped you plan today?”

“I think once I convinced her that I just wanted to make you happy, she found something we had in common.”

Kara nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. “You have, by the way.”

“What?”

“Made me happy.”

“Well, I’m very glad you enjoyed the planetarium.”

“No, Cat.” Kara shook her head, twisting her fingers as she glanced down to the floor. “You make me happy. Sitting here with you, getting to share some of my history with you and having amazing pastries? That was all amazing. But we could have been hanging out in your office or sitting on the balcony talking about nothing, and I’d still be happy.”

Cat dug her fingernails into her palm to keep from doing something rash like reaching out for Kara or kissing her or telling her that other than Carter, she made Cat happier than anyone else in the world. Instead, she took a shuddering inhale. “I know the feeling.” Clearing her throat, Cat added, “I have the planetarium reserved for the full day if you’d like to stay here, but I also have a few other things planned if you would like. But if you’d like time to yourself instead, you’re more than welcome to leave at any point.”

At that, Kara reached over, tangling her hand with Cat’s. “No…no, I’m right where I want to be.”

Cat could feel her heart thudding heavily in her chest as she tried to remember that Kara was a tactile person, that these gestures didn’t necessarily mean anything romantic to her, and that today should simply be about making Kara happy, not about trying to turn what they had into something more.

Of course, all of that was hard to remember when they were seated at a small table, tucked away in the back corner of a small Italian restaurant that Kara had mentioned wanting to try several weeks ago. It got even harder to remember when Kara looked up at her with amazement in her eyes at finding out that Cat had insisted they sample nearly every dish on the menu. And it was damn near impossible to remember when they brought out the birthday cake Cat had delivered from the bakery back in Midvale that Alex swore made Kara’s favorite triple-chocolate cake in the galaxy. Their server lit the candles, then, per Cat’s earlier instructions about not making a scene or singing happy birthday, placed a cake knife and two fresh plates and sets of cutlery on the table before disappearing.

“Cat,” Kara breathed out, her features illuminated from the low lighting of the restaurant and the flickering flames of the candles. “Why did you do all this?”

“You should get to celebrate the days that mean something to you.”

“No.” Kara shook her head. “If it were that simple, you could have just given me the day off and told me to have fun with my sister or something. You. _You_ did all of this. You did all of this for me.”

Cat swore it was becoming harder and harder to get air into her throat. “It’s not—please, just enjoy today. I’m honored to have the chance to celebrate with you.” She flicked a wrist in the direction of the cake, where beads of wax were starting to form on the sides of the candles. “Make a wish.”

Kara closed her eyes tightly, staying silent for a few moments before carefully blowing out the candles.

“I suppose it’s equally bad luck to say what you wished for on your arrival anniversary as it is on your birthday?”

Kara nodded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Cat passed the cake knife to Kara and gestured at the cake.

“Yeah, I…actually, first…” Kara shook her head, setting down the knife and abruptly standing up, her chair scraping across the hardwood floors.

“Is something wr—”

Cat’s next words were cut off by the soft press of Kara’s lips against her own. She froze, everything around her slowing to a stop until all she could feel were Kara’s lips, the way they were moving so softly, so slowly against her own. But then they were stopping and Kara was pulling back, apologies already spilling forth.

“No!” But Cat figured actions spoke louder than words, so she reached up, tangling one hand in Kara’s hair and dragging her back down for a second kiss. And that time she didn’t sit still and let herself be kissed. No, that time she did as Cat Grant does in most all situations and threw herself in wholeheartedly, relishing in the feeling of Kara melting into her.

Aware of the fact that they were in a restaurant, even if they had the side room to themselves, Kara eventually pulled back, beaming at Cat. “Guess earth birthday wishes really do come true.”

“Is that so?”

“Cat, if you think I haven’t been wanting to do that for months now, you’re not the investigative reporter you once were,” Kara teased.

“Well, if you’d like to give me a little more data to work with…” Cat wiggled her eyebrows, leaning over and pressing a lingering kiss to Kara’s mouth.

“I think I’d willingly leave this cake behind.”

“There’s no need to be rash. I see no reason why we can’t bring the cake with us back to my apartment.”

“We can make it back even faster if I fly us,” Kara whispered, one hand already wrapped around Cat’s waist.

“But I can do this in the car.” With tantalizingly slow movements, Cat dragged a finger through the icing and pressed it to Kara’s mouth before leaning forward to kiss the taste off of her lips

“That… That is a very compelling argument.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm (occasionally) on Tumblr @sapphicscholarwrites and Twitter @sapphicscholar


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